


Drifting Away

by reysrose



Series: Saturn [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Bob's Burgers is Rosa's Comfort Show, Canon Divergent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, It's decided, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nightmares, Past Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, References to gun violence, past gun violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reysrose/pseuds/reysrose
Summary: Rosa struggles with a nightmare. Amy and Jake are there to help.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz/Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz/Jake Peralta, Rosa Diaz/Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: Saturn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724032
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71





	Drifting Away

**Author's Note:**

> SERIES!!!!! I am...avoiding finals right now (I graduate tomorrow holy fuck). More soon-Please sent me prompts for b99 @ reyshxpe on Tumblr.  
> Title Inspiration: Drifting Away by khai dreams

“Babe.” 

Amy groans, tugging the comforter over her head. It’s definitely not time to get up yet, because her internal clock isn’t dinging and she can’t hear Rosa banging around in the kitchen with the coffee pot. 

“Amy.” 

“What,” She grumbles, rolling onto her side and forcing her eyes open. The digital clock on Jake’s side of the bed blinks fuzzily, but she’s pretty sure the first number is either a two or a three. She reaches over Rosa for her glasses and- 

Oh. Rosa isn’t there. The sheets are cool but not cold, and the dent in Rosa’s pillow is still flattening itself out. Amy slides her glasses on.

“I’m guessing you woke me up because Rosa isn’t in the bed,” she yawns. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed, popping her spine and stretching her arms over her head. Jake is leaning against the wall by the bedroom door. 

“Yeah,” he says, scrubbing his hand down his face, “She’s in the bathroom and won’t open the door or say more than like, three words at a stretch to me. She asked for you.” 

“Do you think she had another nightmare?” Amy wiggles into a pair of sweats (Jake’s) and a hoodie (Rosa’s) and grabs Rosa’s water bottle off the nightstand. Her gun is still there, next to the lamp and on top of Rosa’s book. That’s good at least. She’s not completely off the wall. Jake kisses her temple, sighing tiredly. 

“I’ll start the tea,” he murmurs. Amy knocks quietly on the bathroom door. Rosa whimpers behind the door. 

“Sweetheart? Can I come in?”

“Fuck off,” Rosa snarls, whining again. Amy rolls her eyes and sighs. Rosa coughs and she hears gagging. Great. Amy pushes her forehead into the wood of the doorframe, jiggling the handle. It’s not locked, but she’s not about to just walk in. She knocks again. 

“Rosa, can you at least tell me if you’re safe in there?”

“I’m fine.”

Ah yes. Amy loves being blatantly lied to by her partner. It’s her favorite thing. 

“Rosa, I literally just heard you gagging. Was it a nightmare?”  
Rosa is silent. Jake comes around the corner with three mugs in his hands. 

“No luck?”

“The door is unlocked but like, I don’t wanna bust in on her.” 

“She asked me specifically for you,” Jake says, taking the mugs into the bedroom, “but I don’t know.”

“Apparently, she’s changed her mind. Rosa, either open the door or we come in.”

“Fuck off,” Rosa groans. The shower starts running and Amy swallows. Her internal alarm is going off now, and it’s not because it’s time to get dressed. Rosa is upset, upset enough that she’s avoiding even Amy. Amy opens the door. She doesn’t have the time or emotional bandwidth to wait out Rosa. 

Rosa is curled on the floor of the shower, head back against the tiles and hair soaking wet. She doesn’t look up when Amy comes in, the lines in her back tensing. Steam rises from the shower and the mirror is starting to fog up, so Amy turns the fan on and kneels by the door of the shower, reaching out to touch Rosa’s cheek. Rosa flinches away from her, turning her head away from Amy’s hand.

“Can I turn off the shower?”

Rosa nods nearly imperceptibly. Jake comes in and sits on the toilet seat, handing Rosa the mug while Amy turns off the shower. Rosa takes a tiny, tired sip, finally looking at them with vacant eyes. Amy reaches for her towel and rubs it over Rosa’s hair, catching a tear on her cheek. She grabs Rosa’s wrists and tries to tug her to standing but Rosa flinches away and grimaces. 

“Can you stand up? We should get you in clean clothes and back in bed.” 

“I don’t want to be in the bed,” she rasps. She stands, digging her fingernails into the grout between the tiles, and takes the towel from Amy. Quietly, Rosa dries herself off and dresses ib a fresh pair of underwear and one of Jake’s shirts, then wraps herself in the comforter and shuffles to the couch, curling into a ball of fabric and dark hair. Her eyes are still vacant, and she’s breathing a bit too fast for comfort. Jake sits next to her on the couch and lays one arm over the back of it in a silent invitation to lean against him, and Rosa takes it, burying her head in his chest. One of her shaking hands reaches out and grips Amy’s wrist tightly. 

“Stay,” Rosa croaks. 

“Budge up then,” Amy murmurs, forcing Rosa and Jake over and settling against Rosa’s side. Rosa turns her head to rest it on Amy’s shoulder, pressing her lips to the side of Amy’s neck.

“The nightmares,” Rosa mumbles, “this time-” she shudders, biting her lip and sitting up to brace her elbows on her knees. Jake starts scratching at the base of her skull, tugging on the strands falling loose from her wet ponytail. 

“It was the active shooter situation,” Rosa whispers, “It kept restarting every time it ended. Over and over and over-” Her hand presses to her abdomen, over the twisted scarring from the bullet, “Every time I fell in the bullpen, I was back to the beginning of the dream.”

Jake presses his palm against the exit wound on Rosa’s back, worming his fingers under the hem of her shirt and stroking the scar tissue with his fingers. Rosa shivers, letting herself relax into the touch. She’s still tense, but she’s calming down in increments. Amy cups the side of her face as Rosa leans back against the couch, bringing Rosa’s lips to her own. Amy sees the same thing in her sleep sometimes, Rosa’s blood staining her blouse, Rosa’s bloodless face and the way she slumped against Jake, her cries in the ambulance- She shakes her head. 

“Baby,” Amy murmurs, “You’re okay.”

“I know,” Rosa rasps, “but it doesn’t make the nightmares go away.”

“Maybe we should try out the sleeping pills again,” Jake says. 

“Still had the dreams,” Rosa mumbles, body softening against the couch and the two of them, “just didn’t wake up from them.”

“Hey,” Amy says, forcing them both to look at her, “We’ll call the psychiatrist in the morning. As for right now, are we watching Chopped, Bob’s Burgers, or Worst Cooks?” 

“Bob’s,” Rosa says, taking a sip of her now cool tea.

“Bob’s it is.”


End file.
